


The Lost Underworld

by Anonymous



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Post-Canon, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2018-11-13
Packaged: 2019-08-23 01:16:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16609079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Post-Pacifist End. The monsters are out in the world and ready to live their lives. This is the reaction of one elder to their sudden appearance.





	The Lost Underworld

My son disappeared at Mt. Ebott many years ago.

We had gone there for a picnic. There were legends, and we knew them, but we were modern, forward-thinking folk and had no time for such things. 

It was a beautiful day. I made sandwiches and packed them in a wicker basket under a gingham tablecloth, just like in the movies. My son helped. He loved to help. The sun shone, the birds sang, and my son ran off to explore. I let him. It was a different time. 

He never came back.

We searched until nightfall. We searched after nightfall. We searched all through the next day. We searched for the next six months.

He 

was 

just

g o n e

I never recovered.

He was my life. 

Without my son I had no heart, no soul.

I wept.

I drank.

I cursed.

My son did not come back.

My friends and family tried to console me. It was all in vain.

I was an automation. I went through the motions of life, but there was nothing there. 

Years passed.

My friends and family left or died.

I grew old.

And then the monsters came.

I saw them on the news. I curled up with my blanket and watched them come into town. Strange, strange creatures made of leftover parts, but everyone said they were friendly. They were kind. That we shouldn't hurt them. And I agreed. They seemed friendly. They seemed kind. I was ready to welcome them.

But then the newscaster said they had come from Mt. Ebott.

And that children lost on the mountain had fallen into their world.

At first it consoled me. My son hadn't died alone and frightened. He had found new friends under the mountain and had grown into a fine, strong man. He hadn't died.

(I had pictured it many times. His little hands reaching out, his little voice crying for me to come and save him. And I couldn't.)

But then I heard how they came out.

Seven souls. Seven children's souls.

Only the last lived.

The rest are buried under the mountain.

Their little bodies split on a spear.

Their eyes glazed.

Their blood stopped.

Their souls stolen.

My son 

is 

there.

(I couldn't save him.)

And we're just supposed to welcome the monsters into our lives?

_THEY KILLED MY SON_

I ~~hate~~

No.

Such feelings are wrong.

They are kind. They are friendly.

(They killed my son.)

They are peaceful.

(THEY KILLED MY SON.)

They say to just treat the monsters like regular immigrants. That hating them is the same as hating immigrant humans. You don't want to hate, do you? You want to live in peace. It's better to welcome. To accept them as new friends. Just like the humans that have come before.

(I don't hate immigrant humans. Some lived near us many years ago. My son played with theirs. When my son ~~disappeared~~ died they brought me meals and let me cry on their shoulders. They comforted me.)

(No monster has comforted me.)

(Did any of them comfort my son?)

But a monster killed another couple's child. I saw it on the news.

They said it didn't mean to. That it was instinct. That if the child had done better, had figured out the correct actions, everything would've been fine. 

But the child died. 

I saw the parent's eyes and recognized my own. Their incredible sorrow. Their pain.

Their anger.

It is dangerous to be angry.

(I cannot be calm.)

If you strike a monster with anger they will die.

And then Undyne will come to kill you.

She is the ~~human killer~~. She is the Champion of Justice.

(My son's blood is on her hands.)

She struck down a man that had attacked a monster. No mercy. _They_ said it was fine, because the man was out of line. The monster didn't mean it. It was justice.

(He will be in pain for the rest of his life. How is that justice?)

The parents on the news just took their child's body and went home. The monster king cried.

(Did he cry for my son?)

But the monster that killed the child went home. To its friends. Its family.

They have their own justice, supposedly. Undyne. We just have to trust their judgment.

(The judgment of child killers.)

We should not be angry, because human anger can kill.

_(GOOD.)_

If you strike a monster with anger, they will die.

These bones are old. They ache in bed, in the rain, in standing. If I fall I will not get up again. 

But ANGER burns in my veins. It supports me. It sustains me. With this ANGER, even Undyne would die.

I would tear her apart

in 

one

b l o w

My son was KIND. He never hit, he never pushed, he never shoved. He laughed and played and loved unreservedly. Only children can do that. 

I am an adult. 

If you hunt monsters, Undyne will come. She is the Champion of Justice.

(Where is our justice?)

Everyone will hate you if you fight her. No one wants to see the heroine lose.

(Where is my son's justice?)

But I can no longer accept that.

My son cries out for justice.

I cannot forget or forgive. 

I have COURAGE. I have ANGER.

I will bring JUSTICE.

**Author's Note:**

> wow I can't do color-coding on AO3 this is bullshit


End file.
